In all the worst ways, Twilight Princess is Ocarina of Time 2.0

It doubles down on everything that ages poorly from that first polygonal Zelda game, while shedding or shredding what worked. Despite Ocarina's haptic inferiority to the tactile Link to the Past, it at least conveyed a sense of solid materiality. Whether young or mature, Link had a weight, heft, and momentum.

That solidity is absent in Twilight. It inherits the floaty disconnect of input-to-motion from the cartoony Wind Waker, where such a ratio was appropriate. Twilight tries so hard to be Ocarina's edgy older bro, but it's undercut by the unpersuasive, ungainly adventure puppet that is Link this time around. Especially if you're playing on Wii, where your button-press-substitute swings never stick the timing of the result onscreen.

Wolf-Link was different and unexpected, but it's hard to believe the emotionless man-in-green and the expressive canine are the same character -- switching between them feels less like a transformation and more like a Final Fantasy battle swap.

On paper, Twilight was everything Zelda fans wanted. More dungeons, more bosses, more items, more shadows, more story events, more intimidation, more more more. And that's exactly its problem.

Because when TP was released, it was already outdated.

Outclassed and outshone by the true successor of the adventure genre: Shadow of the Colossus, released one year prior.

A pensive, atmospheric quest, where mechanics and aesthetics bled together into a harmonious experience. A thoughtul exercise in design: 16 bosses, no minions, no sidequests. Just you, your horse, your goal, and the evocative ruins of the Forgotten Land. A far cry from the semi-dark carnival of Twilight Princess -- kitschy as Chuck E Cheese and stiffer than its animatronics.

I don't understand how anyone, after the majestic world of SOTC, could enjoy the segmented playground of Twilight Hyrule. The seams are apparent everywhere, most obviously betrayed in the final battle when Ganon puts up a literal magic fence in the open field to force a duel (why didn't he just put the fence right around Link's body and stab him in the chest?).

Even TP's best ideas wash out:

- Midna, intially interesting as the UN-sympathetic fairy, has no functional difference to Navi. She's here to nag.

- The Ancient One teases with his sword techniques: could he be the ghost of the Hero of Time? You might wonder, but TP doesn't. Will he figure into the final solution? NOPE. He's merely an extra.

- Zant is an interesting villain: truly intimidating upfront yet unmasked as a pathetic, resentful usurper. Too bad this interesting arc is hijacked by Ganon.

But the most egregious betrayal regards the Fused Shadows. You are constantly told that they're dangerous, forbidden, and no one should have them -- but there's no other way to defeat Zant. That's pretty new territory for Zelda. The first time I gained one and that ominous music played upon acquisition, I was jazzed. I thought, "Wow, what'll happen next? What does this mean for Link and for me as the player?" You're even shown an extensive cut-scene demonstrating just what this 'dark' power does to peoples' minds and souls.

But guess what? It means NOTHING.
There is no conundrum. There is no choice.

No qualm with Midna over her enthusiasm for the Shadows. No qualm over what Midna even IS in the first place. All that warning from the Light Spirits about the Twlight people and their powers, but guess what? There is NEVER a moral dilemma. The second half of the game feels completely unaware of what happened in the first. For crying out loud, you're looking for the Zelda equivalent of the atomic bomb and there is NO discussion about whether it should be used or not.

On all fronts, Twilight Princess was a disappointing, clunky, middling affair - the nadir of Zelda design. The modern reboots, Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom, while not without their (often substantial) issues, represent a direction far more in line with Zelda's original ethos. I hope Nintendo ignores the clamoring from some corners for a return to the dismal Twilight style of "adventure" game.

Next in line after the stale Twilight Princess, Skyward Sword seemed like a breath of fresh air, featuring warm characters, a lighter aesthetic, and upgradeable tools. But its funhouse focus on motion controls felt worn out long before it was over (with the exception of a literally tiring sword-and-shield final duel -- an idea that needs revisiting).

In any case, Skyward's most damning legacy will be its theme park treatment of every space, both interior and exterior. The original exploratory ethos of Zelda is so absent here that it's hard to stomach the thought of ever replaying this prescriptive, tutorial-heavy entry in the series.